Review: Ryan Culwell’s “The Last American”

By Paul T. Mueller

Ryan CulwellIf you don’t find Ryan Culwell’s The Last American especially accessible or easy to listen to, give him credit at least for originality. The often-bleak third album from Culwell, a native of the Texas Panhandle, conjures the image of a man sitting in a farmhouse kitchen at 3 a.m., his only companions the High Plains wind outside and a half-empty bottle in front of him. And it’s unmistakably the work of someone who grew up listening to the radio – rife with musical, lyrical and emotional allusions to the likes of Springsteen, the Beatles, Tom Waits and the drums-and-synth beat of English post-punk pop. The adventurous sonic landscape is an unexpected departure from the familiar country/folk sound of Culwell’s breakthrough 2015 album Flatlands.

The Last American’s lyrics and music quote, but don’t copy, the artists mentioned above, among others. The album opens with “Can You Hear Me,” an ode to alienation (“Can you hear me/can you hear me/I can’t breathe/I can’t breathe”) driven by guitars and synthesizer and a beat you can dance to. The narrator of the title track speaks in a folkier way of being “born on the edge of town” and of getting everything he wanted at 16 – “my old man’s heart and a broke-down Chevrolet.” “I Have a Dream” is about the search for freedom, but not so much the kind Dr. King preached about – more the kind that’s always just a little beyond reach. The closer, “Tie My Pillow to a Tree,” acknowledges the ultimate futility of life – “My fortress it just crumbled, my hole filled up with rain” – but also leaves the sense that it’s worth making the effort to live.

Culwell enlisted some capable Nashville help on The Last American, notably Ethan Ballinger (guitars and keyboards), Megan McCormick (bass and guitars) and Neilson Hubbard (bass and other instruments), all of whom also co-produced. Cody Martin contributed drums on most tracks.

 

 

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